


Break

by Catnipandspice



Series: The Sexcapades of Marc and Nathaniel [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Confessions, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Exhibitionism, Fantasizing, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Gay Marc Anciel, Getting Together, Horny Teenagers, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Minor Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Simultaneous Orgasm, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Boys, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catnipandspice/pseuds/Catnipandspice
Summary: Marc and Nathaniel pull two all-nighters to reach a deadline for their comic.Tired and with their inhibitions lowered, the two boys end up having a conversation that they normally wouldn’t. Which leads to some very interesting revelations about their preferences.Turns out that both boys are much hornier than the other considered… And a barrier between them breaks.
Relationships: Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Series: The Sexcapades of Marc and Nathaniel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133315
Comments: 11
Kudos: 94





	Break

* * *

It’s so late, sunlight’s peaking through the window’s blinds.

Marc looks at his phone to check the time.

Never mind, it was so late it wrapped around to being early morning. It was past four in the morning.

Ugh. That explains it. Why Marc feels delirious.

He hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours, but somehow, he’s still awake and coherent. At least enough to know that he hates his life and life decisions.

“Let’s never pull two all nighters in a row again,” he sighs, all but _feeling_ the dark bags etch themselves under his eyes. Nathaniel groans in agreement, head face-down on the coffee table.

They were really cutting it close, but they’d run behind on their comic. They were supposed to meet their publishers tomorrow with their finished product.

Or, well, technically today. Later today. After school.

Oh God, they had school soon.

Marc rubs the crust from his eyes and yawns. He’s half-tempted to just. Skip school altogether today.

No doubt Nathaniel is also thinking something similar. The redhead looks dead to the world, slumped over the table. Probably fell asleep already.

Marc really wants sleep. That’s what his brain is telling him. He goes to voice this need aloud to his already adorably sleeping partner, staring at his gorgeous and mussed flame-bright hair, wishing the other’s arms were wrapped around him as they both drift off to a fitful rest.

Instead of a declaration of his tiredness, what comes out is, “I want a boy to…hold me.”

It’s all but a confession. He doesn’t realize this until a good five seconds after he says it.

He’s startled from his reverie by Nathaniel raising a hand and slamming it palm-down on the coffee table, followed by a bellowed “Valid!!!”

Marc sits, frozen in mounting mortification, as his partner-slash-crush raises his head from the table. Apparently still completely awake, instead of fallen asleep, like Marc had thought.

Nathaniel yawns widely, showing off all his teeth. He passes a hand through his hair, mussing the flame-bright strands even further, sitting up slightly so he’s not wholly slumped over the table.

He stares back at Marc, eyes half-lidded. Then boldly declares, with complete seriousness and a little too much enthusiasm, “I want a boy to rail me so hard I forget my name!”

Marc promptly finds himself choking on his own spit.

The writer slaps a hand over his own chest, finding himself clutching the fabric of his t-shirt tightly, just to find something to ground himself.

“Wh-what?” he manages to squeak out in a half-wheeze, feeling his face go warm.

Nathaniel simply stares back at him with half-lidded eyes. Marc would think that was a show of the redhead’s sleepiness, but no. There was a gleam in those blue eyes that definitely proved that Nathaniel was wide awake and knew what he was saying.

“I want a boy,” the redhead starts in a drawl, “Who can fuck me hard enough I pass out.”

Oh.

“O-Oh,” Marc says weakly, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. His face is probably steadily turning from pink to red. He’s never heard the other boy talk like this before, this—this blatantly _horny_.

Nathaniel’s lips tilt in a slowly growing smirk.

“I mean, don’t tell me you’ve never thought of it before?” the artist asks coyly. “’Cuz believe me, I’ve daydreamed of getting railed more times than I can count.”

“Th-that’s not. I m-mean,” Marc stutters back, feeling like he’s frozen solid to his seat. His eyes dart down to the table.

He has. Oh, he _definitely_ has. But he probably can’t admit that without admitting _other_ things, too.

A few seconds pass. Marc cautiously looks back up, to see Nathaniel prop his chin on his hand, eyes still half-lidded and looking very intently back at him.

“Unless you’re ace. Then I guess you haven’t,” he says with a faint smile, something odd in his voice. Disappointment, almost. “Which would make sense. You’re always so _innocent_ …”

Marc sputters back, gaping at the other. “I-I’m not—When have I ever—I-I’m not innocent!”

Nathaniel simply raises a brow at him, disbelieving.

Maybe it’s because of his tiredness that’s eroding his inhibitions, but something in Marc snaps.

“I’m _not_ ,” he insists hotly, leaning forwards and glaring straight into his crush’s eyes. “And I’m _definitely_ not ace. I’ve read smut before. Hell, I’ve _written_ it.”

Nathaniel visibly perks up, sitting up straighter, a wild smile spreading on his mouth that uses all his teeth. “Is that so…?”

Oh. Fuck. He actually admitted that aloud.

Marc tries not to break eye contact, acutely aware of how warm his cheeks are. “Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t expect _that_ ,” Nathaniel laughs. It’s a stupidly charming sound. “I swear, I thought all your thoughts were full of. I dunno. Rainbows and puppies and shit.”

“W-well, rainbows would have to be a given, considering…” Marc eventually mutters back, finally breaking eye contact in his embarrassment. “But if I didn’t have _those_ types of fantasies, I’d be lying…”

“Hm…So there’s a dirty side hidden behind that sweet face, then?” the redhead drawls.

“S-Sweet face…?” the writer finds himself asking, looking up through his lashes.

A playful smirk’s back on Nathaniel’s face. “Yup. Sweet and pretty face, plus those big doe eyes of yours? You’re like a little rabbit.”

Marc finds himself gulping rather thickly. It’s probably loud enough for the other to hear, but.

Nathaniel was definitely flirting with him. If he had any doubts before, the way the other was giving him picture perfect bedroom eyes and looking at him like a hunter with its prey, that definitely confirmed it.

Marc feels his heart thrum staccato in his chest.

The anonymity of the early hour, the way the room was dark and only faintly illuminated by the light peaking through the window blinds, the low and hoarse way the two of them were speaking…It all led to a very intimate situation.

And if one of them was going to take advantage of this, well. It would be a bit more equal if they both did, right?

* * *

Marc glances at his phone. Four thirty.

They’ve been working hard. They might as well take a bit of a break…

Plus, if Nathaniel’s going to tease him, Marc’s got to defend himself. He’s watched and read enough smut, he can surely prove himself.

“I—I’m not j-just a sweet face, you know,” he states, raising his head to meet the other’s eyes. “Just because I don’t really talk about it doesn’t mean I don’t want to get fucked within an inch of my life.”

Marc watches as the other boy shifts slightly in his seat, smirk growing. “Yeah? I mean, I used to talk about it with Alix, but she kept threatening to cut my dick off for being too horny. And I didn’t even tell her a fourth of what I was thinking…”

“Oh, you haven’t experienced horny until you’ve written thirty thousand words of smut,” the writer says, leaning forwards with his arms on the table.

The redhead laughs back, eyes gleaming. “Wait—seriously? Thirty thousand?”

“Thirty thousand,” Marc confirms with a nod, feeling pride well up within him. “With at least six different positions involved.”

Again, Marc notes how Nathaniel shifts in his seat. The other boy leans forwards, placing his arms on the table. “That’s impressive.”

“It was a lot of work. I had to do some… _research_ first.”

Nathaniel shifts again, cheeks turning pink, a feverish light entering his blue eyes. “Mmm? How much?”

Marc’s filter flies straight out the window, landing and breaking into a thousand little pieces.

It could be the fact that he hasn’t slept in three days, or the fact that Nathaniel is staring back at him, obviously turned on by what he’s saying.

But for once, Marc is blunt. Uncaring and unabashed now about not just admitting that he read smut, but wrote it, and had to watch porn to research how to write it.

“Oh, I was looking up porn for a good three days straight. Lots of videos to sift through until I found the best stuff…” he says, finding himself smirking back at the redhead across from him. “Though I definitely didn’t get any writing done, that’s for sure. My wrist was sore for days after.”

The artist hums, squirming again in his seat and biting his lip. Marc’s eyes instantly hone in on the motion, watching the teeth reddening the flesh there, and the way those lips formed words as Nathaniel managed to find his voice again. “What—what, uh. What were they about? The—videos?”

“Well, I started with videos of sucking cock. The guys were their knees, usually. One had the guy fucking into the other’s mouth with a hand yanking on his hair, that was one was super hot. But sex isn’t just about blowjobs.”

“R…Right. You’re right,” Nathaniel nods enthusiastically, obviously getting into it. “What, what else?”

“Oh, then it was the fun part. Looking up positions,” Marc smirks back. “Getting bent over and fucked from behind was definitely the most popular type I found. But it varied. Bent over a desk, a bed, against a wall. Different angles, too. From full body, to the camera under them on the floor, or just a close up of the cock slamming into their hole.”

“Ngh, _fuck_ , that. That makes sense. Fuck, I wanna get bent over and fucked so _bad_ ,” Nathaniel whines, squirming in place. But this time, he slips one of his arms off the table’s surface. It promptly disappears under the table, very obviously so the artist could paw at his crotch.

Well, if Nathaniel was going for it…

It’s like a barrier between them breaks. Whatever held them back before shatters as their hormones surge forwards like a battering ram.

“Oh, getting fucked from behind is always hot to watch. I found one where the two were on the bed, laying on their sides,” Marc narrates casually as he slips his own hand under the table to touch himself, watching as Nathaniel’s cheeks darkened. “The top was fucking the other’s hole, and you could see it every time he flexed his thighs and rammed his cock in.”

“D-Didn’t even know that was a—a position,” the artist says shakily, breaths obviously stuttering.

“It was a gem that I found. Getting to see such an intimate position so exposed really helped me write it,” the writer nods, rubbing himself over his jeans. “You could see how the bottom’s stomach kept clenching, and his cock bobbed every time he was getting thrust into by that big cock. The sounds he made with every pounding he took, he was definitely getting hit in his prostrate again and again.”

“Sounds useful,” Nathaniel rasps, his arm very obviously moving under the table, sea-blue eyes locked on Marc’s own emerald green.

“Mmm, it was. The bottom didn’t last too long, but damn, I don’t even blame him. I wouldn’t last long either if I was getting fucked that well,” Marc admits with a breathy laugh, trying not to pant as he stared back at Nathaniel, imagining him and the redhead in the same position. “He came so much, and he wasn’t even touched _once_. The top just kept fucking him, breeding him until his cum seeped out of the bottom’s hole.”

Nathaniel whines, clenching his jaw, face beet red.

“Never found any other videos like it, which was a shame…Missionary’s not that popular, ‘cuz it’s too sweet, I think,” Marc goes on, worming his hand under his pants and underwear so he can properly stroke himself. “But fuck, I found some really nice ones where the bottom was on their top’s lap, riding their cock. Cowgirl and reverse cowgirl.”

“Th-those, _hah_ , those are nice,” the redhead agrees in a strained voice.

“Mmmm, yeah. Really depends on what you’re in the mood for. For the cowgirl, you can stare at how the bottom arches their back and takes their top’s cock, again and again, watch that cock get eaten up by their juicy ass,” Marc agrees, licking his dry lips. “But they’re both great, showing how to bounce on a big, fat cock.”

“ _Fuck_ , I wanna—wanna bounce on a cock,” the artist says—whimpers, really—his arm moving faster. Marc finds himself quickening his pace as well to mirror the other.

“God, yeah. In the reverse cowgirl ones, you can imagine that you’re the one bouncing on a cock really easily, too. It’s so fucking hot. Leaning back on your bed or sitting up—doesn’t matter, it just _works_ , y’know? It’s like you’re really there, like you’re the one taking that cock up your ass.”

“ _Marc_ ,” Nathaniel moans out, panting and red-cheeked, eyes locked on his. “I— _hah_ —fuck, I— I wanna—”

Hearing his name moaned by his crush is something Marc never thought would happen.

Hell, this whole situation is something Marc never thought would happen. But it is.

Feeling frenzied and teetering on the edge, Marc finds himself feverishly saying, “You’re getting fucked and taking that cock like a total slut, and everyone can see you. See you ride that cock like you’re made for it, like the perfect little cockslut you are, Nath—”

“—M- _Marc_ —"

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so perfect, getting pounded and covering yourself in your own cum when you can’t take it—”

“I’m gonna— _aaaah_!” Nathaniel moans loudly as if the sound was ripped from his throat, mouth dropping open and an expression of pure bliss crossing his face, body spasming as he comes then and there.

Watching Nathaniel moan and come is all it takes for Marc to break.

“N-Nath— _ahn_ —Nath _aniel_ …!” Marc comes, spilling his hot seed all over his hand and inside his underwear, moaning and unheeding of his volume.

Like a dam full to bursting, the feeling of pleasure hits him like a truck. Marc all but goes cross-eyed, his vision blurring as he tries to keep his eyes open.

* * *

Fuck. That’s the most intense he’s ever felt when coming…

The two teenagers pant in unison, slumped over the coffee table, staring at one another and blinking their eyes slowly.

Nathaniel looks tired and disheveled, all flyaway flame-bright hair and sweat slick on his temples and a flush painting his cheeks ruddy red. His sea-blue eyes look hazy, darkened with lust, dark bags etched under them. His lips are parted as he pants, pink from him biting them so hard and shiny with spit.

He looks like a wild animal. He looks beautiful.

“That was…hot,” Marc finally manages to say, after a minute of catching his breath from his post-orgasm high.

“Yeah…really…really fucking hot,” Nathaniel agrees, licking his lips, lapping up the excess drool that was leaking from the corner of his mouth.

The two boys go quiet, just eyeing one another. Cautious and unsure.

Marc bites his lip, feeling the nerves beat back the post-orgasm euphoria, the warmth in his stomach fizzling out.

Fuck. He’s fucked up.

It seemed like a good idea in the moment, but… There’s really no coming back from this, is there?

Marc dirty talked to Nathaniel, and the two jacked off to it. They stared into each others eyes and moaned the other’s name when they came.

That was decidedly _not_ things friends did, and it was most definitely _not_ straight, and now Nathaniel _knows_.

Oh God. This is going to make things so _awkward_ when they work on their comic. No, forget the comic—Nathaniel isn’t going to want to be his friend anymore _period_.

He just broke his closest friendship for, what? Because he wanted to prove he could be horny?

Marc feels himself panicking, just a bit, his thoughts spiraling.

“We should do that again,” Nathaniel blurts, cutting through Marc’s thoughts. Marc instantly snaps to attention, sitting up straight, eyes laser-focused on the other. The redhead gives a nervous laugh, darting his eyes away and rubbing at his cheek. “Ah. For…research.”

“At least take me out to dinner first,” the writer finds himself saying, the words easily slipping past his lips, loosened from his fatigue.

One second, two.

Aw fuck. He’s done it again.

Before he can fall into a full-blown panic attack, the boy across from him yells “Yes!”

Marc blinks back at the redhead, completely taken aback.

“I—yes. Y-yeah, dinner. We should. G-Get dinner,” Nathaniel stutters back, face beet red, hunching down and looking mortified. “S-Sorry I should’ve—taken you o-on a date—before, uh… _This_.”

The artist waves his hands around himself helplessly, as if trying to encapsulate the very impromptu and very horny last few minutes.

Marc can’t help it. The absurdity of it all, the relief that Nathaniel doesn’t hate him, the elation that his _crush_ wants to take him out on a _date_ after all that happened… He laughs.

“Sorry! S-Sorry I’m not—not laughing a-at you,” Marc manages to say through his laughter, waving a hand in front of himself frantically.

He manages to fight his mirth down until he was only giggling. He wipes at the edge of his eyes and smiles back at a wide-eyed Nathaniel, who stares back at him, dumb-founded.

“It’s just…Neither of us knew we were going to do this…” Marc starts, voice gentle, his face feeling warm. “So you really have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still. I’ve, um…” Nathaniel starts, sitting up in his seat and meeting Marc’s gaze squarely. “I’ve wanted to go out with you for a while now, but kept chickening out, so…I guess this is my last chance for that.”

“You…You have?” the writer blinks back, stunned.

The artist nods with a shy smile. “Mhm. Sorry for uh. For doing that all out of order.”

Marc finds himself smiling, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Hey. If it got us together…I don’t think I mind.”

Nathaniel gives an incredulous laugh, loud and sudden and bright.

“Ha! Haha! You say that now, but when we’ve gotta explain how we got together—”

“—Oh God,” Marc groans, feeling himself die a little inside. He buries his face in a hand. “Oh _God_ , you’re right. _Shit_. The fuck are we s’pposed to tell everyone…?”

The artist snorts. “Let’s just say we confessed when we were sleep-deprived from our all-nighters, and leave it at that.”

“Deal.”

Marc raises his face to grin at Nathaniel tiredly, who grins back with the softest and fondest look the writer’s ever seen.

They may have done things a little out of order, but…They’re dating now.

And hey, he’s got more _accurate_ material of what Nathaniel looks and sounds like, for more… _personal_ uses…

“Class starts in like…three hours. You wanna skip?” Nathaniel offers.

Marc blinks back at him. “Hell yeah I do. I’m beat,” he nods.

“Cool. Take the couch, and we’ll— _yawn_ —wake up for the meeting later.”

* * *

When the boys go back to school the next day holding hands, Alix nearly tackles both of them to the ground.

“I _knew_ it…! I _knew_ you two pulled an all-nighter and got together!” the short girl crows, turning around to yell into Bustier’s class, “Hey, Kim! You owe me twenty euros…!”

“Aw, man!” Kim yells back, nearly barreling into Alix as he comes up to them, staring at the two boy’s interlocked hands. “How’d this happen?! I mean, congrats, you two, but you’re both so shy I’d thought for sure it’d take you longer to get together…!”

Nathaniel goes red and mutters, “Shy, yeah _right_.” Marc finds himself snorting, ducking his head down to hide his mirth.

“Ooh, who confessed first?” Rose squeals, giggling and bouncing on her toes, Juleka right behind her like a silent shadow.

“Yeah. You or Marc?” Juleka asks quietly, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend.

The boys look at each other, pink cheeked and trying not to imagine the exact _circumstances_ of them getting together.

“Nathaniel asked me to dinner first,” Marc starts, which isn’t a lie.

“But Marc, uh, kissed me first,” Nath adds. Which also isn’t a lie, because when Nathaniel woke him up yesterday, Marc had stolen a quick peck.

“Anything else interesting that happened?” Alix all but demands.

The two boys turn to look at one another again for a long second, before looking back at the growing interest from their friends and classmates.

“Nope,” they state together, unbreakable under the weight of curiosity and willing to take their secret to the grave.

* * *


End file.
